


That Which We Call Sex Pollen, By Any Other Name Would Be As Sweet

by thisiswherethefishlives



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 24hrs to live, Anal Sex, Awkward, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Fingering, Fuck Or Die, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Lots of Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Sex Pollen, Snuggling, betting pools, fitz is an angst machine and mack is giving him a run for his money, i mean - if hunter says it's sex pollen it probably is, oh!, poor communication, probably sex pollen, this gets a little sexy, this is a serious fic - i promise!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/thisiswherethefishlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay. Really, Hunter? How is this remotely funny?"</p><p>Hunter only looks slightly mollified under the scrutiny of the rest of the team.</p><p>"Seriously, is no one else making this connection? It's obviously sex pollen - look at the evidence! First, it's killer pollen. That's super weird, but then you have to look at the fact that the only exposure survivors had sex and - WOW! - they are fine. Thirdly, those that didn't survive exhibited classic sex pollen symptoms. All that was left of them? Dried out husks filled to the brim with untapped hormones. I mean - don't any of you read?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contagion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/gifts).



"Oh, fuck. Everyone needs to get out of here." The team's eyes swivel towards Fitz, but no one moves a muscle until he snaps, "Move!  _Now!_ "

It was a foolish, careless stumble into the bushes. It was stupid, and clumsy, and now he's absolutely covered in bright yellow pollen. His comm crackles to life and Fitz forces himself to breathe normally because he can feel a panic attack coming on fast, but he takes a moment to listen as his best friend's voice filters in. He can't help but take comfort in it, as concerned and shrill as she is right now, and it helps him to measure his breaths.

"Fitz! Are you alright? Have you been exposed?"

Glancing at the team that's packing up around him, he motions that they should go back to the base without him before answering.

"Jemma. I might have become... compromised." Just saying the word makes his stomach twist with anxiety. Compromised. He's seen the fallout, knows what's going to happen to him now... compromised makes it sound simple and clean. Impersonal.

"You need to come back at once, Fitz, so that we can begin the decontamination process." Her voice sounds strained as she continues, as if she's forcing herself to smile, which is foolish since he can't see her little face. "We're going to figure this out, so stop wasting time and get back here."

"Alright, alright. I'm coming back - make sure everyone is cleared out before I get there, just to be safe."

It's a long walk, and it would be better with Jemma's voice in his ear, but right now he needs some quiet to think. He turns off his comm without a word and begins to head back. Jemma will rip him a new one, but that's the least of his problems right now. He just can't deal with someone else being in his head when he's quite literally walking to his death.

It's not that he's afraid of death. He's faced it, and though he came out different, he still managed to survive against all odds. He doesn't feel fear now, just a sense of disappointment because he had _plans_. He had spent months working up the nerve to ask Mack out, to let him know that he's so much more than a friend. Jemma's kind rejection had burned him, but he couldn't afford to let that hold him back. He was going to take the plunge, he _really_ was. But that was before. Fitz had foolishly assumed that there would be more time, but if their estimates were correct he had less than twenty-four hours. Time was simply luxury he no longer could claim.

Trudging up the final hill to their base of operations, he can see that he was half-right about the welcome party. It's not Jemma that's there to greet him with a harsh word. It's Coulson, and he looks pissed, which is somehow so much worse. Without a single word, Coulson points him through the decontamination process from behind the safety barrier. 

1\. All of his clothes and equipment go into the incinerator along with his dignity,  
2\. He steps into the wash-down area, skin flushed bright red due to his embarrassment and the incredibly hot water,  
3\. He dries himself and puts on one of the S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued robes. It's incredibly fluffy.

It's only after he's tied the robe around himself that Coulson approaches. He's ready for the disappointment, for the lecture on the importance of safety in the field. He's prepared for pretty much anything, but it's still a surprise when Coulson smacks him roughly upside his head. Braced for another attack, eyes closed and hands raised in self-defense, he stands like that for what feels like an eternity - only to hear Coulson's retreating footsteps. Peeking his eyes open warily, Fitz can see Coulson walking away briskly. His relief only lasts a moment before Coulson beckons him over with a sharp wave of the hand. 

"Come on, we have a briefing to get to and you're late. Believe me, you got off easy - May wanted to be the one to greet you, and I'm pretty sure you would have had worse than a slap to the head after turning off your comm like that."

Nodding in agreement, Fitz hurries along behind Coulson, clutching his robe tighter around his slim frame to avoid it fluttering open to reveal anything too personal. He takes a deep breath before entering the room, but it's not enough to prepare him for the rest of the team.

It's pretty clear that Jemma's been crying, but she's wearing her brave face, so he knows better than to mention it. May's wearing her game face, which means it's the same face she always has... terrifying woman, that May. The rest of the team falls somewhere on the spectrum between concern and determination. The rest of the team, that is, except Hunter and Mack.

Hunter seems to be having the time of his life. He's clearly holding in his laughter, but the second he makes eye contact with Fitz he loses all composure and cracks up. Fitz can feel himself flushing in indignation, but he makes a point of rolling his eyes before taking a seat. It's easy enough to ignore Hunter when he's being a prick, it's ignoring Mack's obvious discomfort that he's having difficulties with. The other man is making an effort to avoiding eye contact with Fitz entirely - he's all blank faced and downcast eyes, and it's such a change from his usual attitude. The warmth and ease that he usually has is nowhere to be found, and it's a pretty damning sign. It's almost too much to bear - the one thing he had hoped for on the walk back to base was Mack. He had decided against a confession, but he wouldn't have shied away from a hug or a comforting word. It doesn't seem like that's going to be an option now, though, not with the tension in the other man's frame. With a resigned sigh, Fitz swivels in his chair to face Coulson, hoping that no one notices how close he is to tears at this point.

"Alright, first on the agenda, let's go over what we know. Agent Simmons?"

Jemma stands up and collects herself, nodding once to Coulson before briefing the team.

"Two weeks ago, we got a heads up from one of our agents in Peru that there had been a rash of unexplained deaths in the area. We were able to narrow down two potential origin points. The first team is set to make contact in approximately five hours. The second team was investigating their designated area when one of the team... when they... I-I'm sorry, Sir. I need a moment."

Jemma takes a seat, head in her hands as the director puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. He looks over the table towards Skye.

"Skye - can you take it from there? We need to all be on the same page. We need to know what we're up against."

The hacker clears her throat and moves to stand next to the display.

"We know that eleven people were initially exposed to the contagion. Of the eleven, ten were dead within twenty-four hours of exposure. The sole survivor, Piero, is currently under observation. We also have Piero's wife Gabi under observation - it seems that the two of them were intimate within the twenty-four hour incubation period."

Skye glares at Hunter before continuing, the merc biting his fist to try to keep his laughter at bay. Fitz is torn between embarrassment and anger. He's not sure what Hunter finds funny about the situation, but part of him wants to know. He wouldn't mind being able to laugh about the whole thing, but it would probably freak Jemma out. It might be just slightly morbid to be cackling about your own demise...

"Simmons has been monitoring their vitals and the only outlier seems to have been a recent spike in their testosterone levels. There are also traces of the actual pollen in their blood streams, but their immune systems seem to be fighting it. It's important to note that after a shower, the victims were not contagious. Um, as you can see," she motions to a series of charts on the display, "the autopsies also show spiked testosterone levels in the victims' remains, but for some reason their immune systems didn't fight the pollen like - Okay. _Really_ , Hunter? How is this remotely funny?"

Hunter only looks slightly mollified under the scrutiny of the rest of the team.

"Seriously, is no one else making this connection? It's obviously sex pollen - look at the evidence! First, it's killer pollen. That's super weird, but then you have to look at the fact that the only exposure survivors had sex and - WOW! - they are fine. Thirdly, those that didn't survive exhibited classic sex pollen symptoms. All that was left of them? Dried out husks filled to the brim with untapped hormones. I mean - don't _any_ of you read? This is the best thing that could have happened to Fitzy over here - I can think of at least one volunteer to help him through this difficult ti- owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Ow!"

It happens so fast that Fitz barely registers that Hunter's arm has been twisted roughly behind his back by Bobbi as she continues to apply pressure. She only pulls back at Coulson's pointed glare, shrugging before sitting back down. There's a heavy, awkward silence hanging over the team for a moment - broken as Bobbi sighs heavily before turning to face her ex-husband.

"I would hardly call the Stuckey fan fiction you write popular literature, Hunter. Hard to believe, I know, but 'sex pollen' isn't a real thing - and _maybe_ you could show some respect to Fitz and the rest of the team right now instead of acting like a child."

"I - I didn't mean to... look, Fitz. I'm sorry, mate. I don't know what I was thinking."

Fitz is about to be the bigger person by accepting Hunter's apology - _he really is, he swears_ \- when Jemma jumps up from her seat with her problem-solving face firmly in place.

"Now, I'm not saying that Hunter is right... but what if the act of coitus itself _is_ the antidote, for lack of a better term, to the pollen's effects?"

Fitz is used to throwing out crazy theories with Jemma in the midst of the problem-solving process. It's just part of how they figure things out, but this is a little more than crazy. A quick survey around the room shows that the rest of the group looks just as disconcerted as Fitz feels as Jemma adds her thoughts to the theory.

"All that I'm saying is that we have less than twenty-one hours left at this point - and isn't it worth trying everything we can? I can start with some blood samples before - Fitz? Where are you going?"

He's on autopilot at this point as he stumbles out of his chair. He can feel the weight of the team's collective gaze on him, everyone except for Mack who is still stone-faced, staring down at his hands. Of course, the one person he does want looking at him is avoiding eye-contact like the plague. It's too much.

"I just can't sit here like - like I'm not... I can't. Let me know if you need blood samples, but please don't act as if this is a useful exercise. There's no such thing as 'sex pollen', and even if there was who am I going to sleep with? I can't sit here and listen to this anymore."

He turns and leaves as quickly as he can - robe clenched tightly around him - walking away to avoid their pitying looks.

+++++

Mack can feel himself shutting down. He's been on autopilot ever since Coulson called them in for an emergency meeting and explained the situation. There's still grease on his hands and he can't stop looking at the stains on his fingers. It's easier than looking around the room.

He can't bring himself to meet anyone's eyes because that will make it real, and that's unacceptable. Simmons has been throwing out words like "exposure" and "contagion" - pulling up the data on the first eleven cases and working with Skye to establish an incubation time frame. None of it matters, not when it's Fitz on the line, not when he looked so soft and vulnerable in that robe.

At this point, Mack is 98% certain that he's been in love with Fitz since he had first called him out for his blunt attitude. Spending time with the engineer quickly became the best part of his day - watching him navigate the lab with a level of concentration that was mostly unwarranted. Sure, Fitz could be clumsy and awkward, but in the moments where he's halfway to an epiphany he becomes the most graceful, beautiful thing that Mack has ever seen. Yeah, he might be a bit more than 98% positive, but it's hard to focus on the good when there are graphs and charts and geniuses telling him that Fitz is going to be gone by this time tomorrow.

He feels Bobbi's gaze on him, and it takes everything he has to not look up, because he's still not ready for it to be real.

"Mack. C'mon, Mack, I need you to snap out of it."

It's her gentle hand on his, so clean and pale compared to the grease-stained hands that he's been staring at, that gets a reaction. This is his best friend, and he can't hide from her.

"He's going to die. He's going to die, and I'm going to lose him, Bobbi."

He looks up, braced for pity, but that's not what he gets. Sometime in-between Fitz walking out and Mack retreating into his own head the rest of the team stepped out of the room. It's just the two of them now, and Bobbi looks like she's considering the merits of beating the crap out of him.

"You really need to stop with the melodramatic bullshit. Your boy needs you right now, your team needs you and you're shutting down. How the hell is that going to help Fitz?" She still looks pissed, but her words are surprisingly soft in contrast to the way she's staring him down. "It's not a hopeless case, Mack, and I need you to stop acting like he's already dead."

"The others were dead within twenty-four hours, and we don't know for sure what saved Piero. Shit, Hunter thinks it's 'sex pollen'? Since when is Hunter a legitimate scientific source?! It doesn't even sound like a real thing... and what if it is? Am I just supposed to offer to fuck the pollen out of his system? Should I bring him to a brothel?! I can't just- you know that I'm pretty much in love with him, and this is not how I was planning on telling him..."

He has to stop to take a breath, to breathe in and out steadily. It's too much right now.

"I know how it sounds, Mack. Believe me, I'm not Hunter's personal cheerleader, but Simmons thinks that he may be onto something, and I trust her opinion. I trust _her_ , and I trust this _team_ , and I trust that you're going to get your ass in gear now. Take a shower. Have a stiff drink. Do whatever it takes, but don't you dare leave Fitz any longer than you have to. The way I see it, you have two options: you can let Fitz go through this without you, or you can do _everything_ in your power to make sure that he survives this."

She swivels his chair so that they are eye-to-eye, and the look in her eyes is frightening.

"Do you really want to risk it? Do you want to spend his last day on Earth shut down and alone without him?"

+++++

Jemma knocks lightly on his door before letting herself into his room. Fitz hasn't been sulking - _he swears_ \- but the way Jemma looks him over suggests that he looks pretty pathetic regardless. She joins him on the bed and settles into an easy rhythm as she prepares to draw his blood. He's effectively trapped with a needle in his arm when she tries to discuss the situation.

"Fitz... don't look at me like that! We all talked it over, and I don't think you should give up yet. We still have options!"

"What options do I have, Jemma? Really? Where are all these _great_ options? I don't even know if I believe in this 'sex pollen' theory, but I'm not going to allow it to shape my last day. I'm not about to waste my time on some ridiculous theory, and I'm certainly not going to-to... to be someone's pity fuck."

Jemma's eyes are trained on her hands as she proceeds to remove the needle from his arm and Fitz can't make himself feel guilty over his outburst. He adores Jemma, he truly does, but the whole situation is bordering ludicrous. The room is quiet aside from the crinkle of the sterile wrappers and the application of a Care Bear Band-Aid. Usually, Wish Bear is enough to brighten his spirits, but usually he's not facing a horrific death.

"I just wish that you would consider that there are... options. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you did... have sex. I mean, it could save your life, and if not at least you could go out with a bang. Yes, yes, I know. That was horrible, but we're not here to discuss my sense of humor or phrasing. I just want you to consider that there are options here and... you're very handsome. You're smart and funny, and I'm sure that there are plenty of people that would jump at the chance to be with you."

"Why, Agent Simmons, is that you offering?" Fitz tries to inject some humor into his words, but they come out sad and flat.

"Oh, honestly Fitz, I don't mean me. I'm with Trip now, and you're my best friend. I couldn't stand it if you died, but-"

He had meant it as a joke - a poorly timed and executed joke, sure, but a joke none the less. Fitz can't help but snort at her obvious discomfort, but there's no humor when she starts packing up all quick, sharp, angry movements and he can see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stands to leave.

He can't allow her to leave like this, they don't have time to straighten it all out in the usual way. Standing up, he moves into her personal space and pulls her in for a hug. They stand there, crying, swaying back and forth in the quiet of the room. Disentangling from her arms, he wipes the tears from both their faces before leaning down to grab her bag. Handing it over, he quirks a smile and feels the relief wash over him at her returning smirk.

"Jemma Simmons, you're the most brilliant person I know. You're my best friend, and I love you. If anyone is going to figure this out, it's you, so I need you to be brilliant. I need you to figure this out, because I don't want to die."

With a stiff upper lip and a firm nod of the head, Jemma leaves him alone again. He settles back on the bed and does his best to keep the tears at bay.

The whole thing seems hopeless. They don't have enough data to work with and there are too many unknowns. It's lonely in his room, as he waits to die. It's melodramatic and horrible, but it's the truth. He's waiting to die, and he's doing his best to _not_ wait for Mack to show up at the same time.

He had hoped that Mack would come 'round, but the earlier meeting had made Mack's feelings perfectly clear. It was obvious from his lack of reaction in the briefing that the other man wanted nothing to do with him. He's not sure what it is - perhaps Mack is uncomfortable with death, or maybe he just didn't know how to deal with the situation. Whatever the issue, he had thought they were at least friends, had secretly hoped for more in the dark of his room each night.

Mack has become more than just a friend, but it seems that once again Fitz has fallen for someone that doesn't feel the same. If it was Mack who was knocking on Death's door, he would be spending every moment with him. He would be there, dammit! Platonic or romantic, it wouldn't even matter because he would be there... but that's not how it panned out. With hours left to live, Fitz does the only reasonable thing a man in his position can do. He buries himself under his blankets, closes his eyes, and he takes a nap.

+++++

Hot water pours down his back, and it's nowhere near enough to make him feel clean. Every inch of Mack's skin is crawling with discomfort, and he can't get the water to run hotter. As easy as it would be, he knows that he can't stay in the shower all day. One last rinse under the spray and he reaches out blindly to turn off the water. Toweling off quickly, with efficient movements, he hangs the towel to dry and sets to getting dressed. His tank top is halfway over his head when he hears a knock at his door, and as much as he wants it to be a surprise, he's not shocked when it's Simmons on the other side with a tight smile.

"Hello, Mack. I just wanted to come see how you were holding up..." she looks up at him with determination before stepping forward, "do you mind if I come in? We've started the blood tests, but it's going to take a while before we have any answers."

Without waiting for Mack to acknowledge her request, she presses past him into the room and settles down on the foot of his bed, hands folded primly in her lap. Since she doesn't seem to need his permission, he takes his time closing the door behind her before turning around. Her eyebrows quirk at his rigid stance and crossed arms, and he knows how defensive he looks - but they've never been friends, and she has certainly never come to visit him in his room before. He meets her gaze head on and waits for her to get on with whatever she needs to say.

"Well, I'm pleased to see that you're more responsive than you were this morning. I must say that I was disappointed in you - I would never have pegged you as the kind of man to shut down when the going gets tough. Fitz certainly deserves better than that, hmm?"

He wants to scream, to rail against her bitter judgement, but he can't.

"I know that he does. I know that he deserves better. Hell, he deserves everything, you think I don't know that?"

He's pinned in place as she scrutinizes him, and he tried to see himself as she must view him. A large man made small by his fears. A coward. Someone undeserving and weak. He doesn't blame her for her harsh judgment.

He's deep in the pit of self-loathing when she clears her throat, and he's not prepared for the small smile she's wearing.

"Yes, well. I think Fitz deserves a great many things. I think that Fitz deserves to know that you're in love with him, and I think that you owe it to yourself to tell him while you still have the chance."

She pulls herself to her feet before standing in front of him. They've never been friends, and he doesn't think that's about to change, but he respects her more now than he ever did before.

"I think, Agent Mackenzie, that you are wasting time standing here with me when you could be heading down to Fitz's room instead. I know that if he was in your place, Fitz would be doing _everything_ in his power to make sure you survived. Right now, we're going on limited data and harebrained theories, but if this _is_ some kind of... 'sex pollen'... I think you should do _whatever_ is necessary to save him. We know the general time table, but we don't know how the pollen is going to affect him as time goes on. If you wait too long, he may not be our Fitz anymore."

Simmons' cheeks flush prettily at the implication of her words, but her eyes are fierce and leave no room for apologies. With a final incline of the head she leaves him to his thoughts, the door closing quietly behind her.

He knows what he should do, he really does, but it feels wrong. Love confessions aren't exactly low-stake affairs to begin with, but this one has another person's life hanging in the balance. Mack grabs his keys and makes his way over to Fitz's room. It's not a long walk, and before he knows it he's knocking on the other man's door - hoping that Fitz won't resent him for his earlier vacancy.

He knocks again on the door when Fitz fails to answer. Nothing. He knocks hard enough to bruise his knuckles but there's still no response. Simmons' earlier words repeat over and over in his head, and he can feel the panic rise in his chest. They know so little about how the pollen works, but if Fitz has been rendered unresponsive... if it's too late to help him...

Mack squares his shoulders and backs away. This line of thought isn't helping Fitz, and shutting down again just isn't acceptable. He clears his head and takes a final deep breath before kicking the door down.

+++++

It's not that he doesn't hear the knocking at his door, he's just in the middle of this dream where Mack is doing some _very sexy things_ with motor oil, and he's not about to wake up now. He murmurs as much to whoever's knocking before rolling back into his pillow - nuzzling into the warmth and slipping back into his dream effortlessly.

Or, that's what would have happened if Mack hadn't taken the opportunity to break his door down.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!" He hisses as he attempts to sit up while blinking the sleep seeds out of his eyes. He doesn't have much success with either endeavor and settles for tilting his head in Mack's general direction as he rubs the gunk from his eyes with his fists."That was a perfectly nice door, what did it ever do to you?!"

It's only after he's cleared his eyes that he really has an opportunity to look at Mack, and the man, though genuinely remorseful, looks... relieved. He's breathing heavily and his eyes scan Fitz from head to toe before reaching down to pick up the door. At least he has the decency to look sheepish as he places the door back into the frame, patting it gently in place. His knuckles are bruised and bloody, and Fitz isn't sure if he wants to kick him out or patch him up.

"Oh, forget the damn door. Sit down and tell me what's going on out there."

Mack makes his way across the room and hesitates for a moment - obviously torn between joining Fitz on the bed or sitting at the desk chair. He settles on the edge of the bed, the tension obvious in the tight line of his shoulders, but despite the awkwardness he starts talking.

"Well, Simmons  is running your blood samples right now. Hopefully we'll have some concrete results soon. After you left the meeting, Coulson touched base with the rest of your team - you did good, they all got away from the origin point without coming into contact with the pollen. They've gone back to contain the area to hopefully avoid anyone else becoming infected."

Mack's eyes finally meet Fitz's own at that, but he looks away as he continues, eyes trained back to his bloody hands.

"The other team is still on their way to check out the first site - Coulson wants to be damn sure that we don't have two sources to contain. They are expected to reach their destination in the next half hour or so, and they'll be touching base on an hourly basis."

Mack is sitting right there on his bed, but Fitz feels light-years away from the other man. The one person in his life that didn't treat him like a broken, sad little thing after the trauma at the hands of Ward. The one person that treated him like a _person_ can't even look him in the eye. He doesn't mean for his anger to get the best of him, but Mack's inability to treat him normally is driving him up a wall. Is it so horrible to sit here with him? Fitz had wanted him to show up, to show some kind of concern, but this feels like a slap in the face.

"Yes, well, hopefully there won't be any more casualties, eh? Especially since _poor Fitz_ is already a goner, right? You don't have to baby me, Mack, and you really don't have to go on ignoring the elephant in the room. I'm a big boy, and I knew what I signed up for when I lead that team, and I don't need you sitting here when you would obviously rather be somewhere else."

He can't bring himself to feel bad when the other man's face crumples.

"Really, it's a shame that it makes you uncomfortable, but it's reality and... and if you can't handle this, maybe you should leave."

Mack gets to his feet and makes it to the door before turning around. It's like a switch has been flipped because he's suddenly all about eye contact as he strides up to the bed, pulls the blankets away, and climbs so that he's effectively trapped Fitz's legs underneath his own. Mack's long arms come down on either side of Fitz's head, pinning him in place, and Fitz needs to remind himself how to breathe for what feels like the tenth time that day.

"This is the only place I want to be right now, dammit, and I need you to know that I'm sorry. I wish I had been there with you in the field to stop this from happening, but I'm with you now, and I'm sorry that I made you think I can't handle this. I just need you to be okay, and I need you to stop putting words in my mouth, and I need you to let me help you if I can..."

Mack pauses to lick his lips and Fitz can't help the pleasant heat building low in the pit of his stomach. He's really going to need Mack to get off of him if this conversation is going to continue - he opens his mouth to voice his concerns when Mack presses down to kiss him, and it's soft. It's nothing like Fitz had imagined kissing Mack would be, but it's sweet and warm and insistent... it's lovely, laying here kissing Mack but it's not what he wants. Pulling away, he takes a deep, shuddering breath before pushing Mack back.

He can feel the tears as they fall, and he can't help but turn his face to the side - eyes closed tight and mouth screwed shut. It's all too much. He's got hours left, and _yes_ , he's wanted Mack for ages, but he can't stand the idea of being with him out of some twisted sense of duty.

It's not what he wants at all.

+++++

Fitz's lips are chapped, and warm, and Mack could kick himself for not doing this sooner. It feels right, the way their lips meet so easily. For just a moment, he can almost forget that they have a time limit counting down against their favor. That one, beautiful moment is everything that he's wanted and hoped for, but it's over almost immediately - Fitz is pulling away with tears in his eyes and it's like a knife to the gut.

"Mack, that was... that was very, very nice, but - I can't do this with you. Not now, not - I can't. I can't, because I want _you_ , and I think part of me would rather die with whatever little dignity I have rather than ruining our friendship by you... by you being with me when you don't want it. I would want so much more, and I can't settle. It wouldn't be worth it."

It's all wrong, twisted half-truths and assumptions and he can't let this go any further.

"Turbo, c'mon I need you to look at me right now. Please," Mack reaches out gently, so gently,  to wipe the tears from Fitz's face - he's afraid that any sudden movements may spook the younger man, "I need you to get this through your head, and I need you to understand where I stand right now."

Mack pauses to drop soft kisses across Fitz's forehead, his cheeks, his chin. He traces the other man's face with a feather-light touch, careful and _reverent_ , because he cares for him so deeply. He needs the other man to understand that this thing between them is so much more than a sexual attraction or some misguided need to save his life. He waits until Fitz opens his eyes and it almost wrecks him when he does because it's heavy. It's almost too much, because Fitz's face is so open, so vulnerable, and he looks terrified.

"You're more than my damn friend, and we've been dancing around this.. this _thing_ between us for months, and I've been thinking about kissing you since the first day we met. It's more than that - _you're_ more than that. You're gorgeous, and funny, and you're so, so brave. I want to be with you, and it would be a lie to tell you this has nothing to do with saving your life, but I've wanted you  all along and I can't allow my fears to hold this back any longer - not if it means losing you."

Fitz is sobbing now, arms reaching up to pull Mack closer, clinging like his life depends on the other man - which, in a sick way, it actually does. Repositioning himself to sit with his back against the wall, he pulls Fitz into his lap and does his best to comfort the other man, rubbing what he hopes is a soothing hand up and down his back while his other hand runs gently through his hair.

The tears eventually start to peter out, which he takes as a good sign, and Fitz's breathing has calmed. They are wrapped around each other like drowning men holding onto a lifeline, and it feels right. He can feel Fitz nuzzle against his neck, each breath puffing warm and damp against his skin. It's the first thing today that hasn't felt wrong or broken, but he can't take it for granted because throughout his entire confession, Fitz hasn't said a thing.

This closeness is good though, it feels right, but it isn't an invitation to anything and he's not about to cross any lines. If this is what he gets, it's more than he had yesterday, and that's something to hold onto.

"I feel the same, you know."

Mack can't help but startle as Fitz starts talking into his neck. It's muffled and warm, but he can make out the words clearly, and for the first time today he feels something a little like hope.

"This isn't how I planned to tell you, but I feel the same, and I know that it's all wrong. It's too fast, there's been too little said, but I think you're worth rushing into if it means we can have more time to figure this out... to figure _us_ out..."

He can feel the other man pull away from him, sitting back in his lap enough so that they can really look at each other. Fitz's eyes are rimmed with red, and his face is splotchy from his tears, but he's got a smile on his face and the look in his eyes makes Mack feel warm _everywhere_.

"We need more time, Mack. I'm _with_ you, and we need more time."

Moving in closer to better brush his lips against Mack's, Fitz cups his face gently with his two hands and it's electric. If the last kiss was soft and sweet, this one is desperate and hard. It's the firm press of their lips and the slick slide of their tongues. He can feel kiss down low in his groin, and paired with the pressure of Fitz in his lap, he feels sensitive all over.

They stay like that - learning each other's mouths - until Fitz shifts back far enough to pull his sweater off. Then it's a flurry of movement as they both start undoing the buttons together, and it's awkward and perfect, and he can't help but chuckle as they work together to pull the shirt off entirely. They high five in celebration before it really sinks in that Fitz is sitting shirtless in his lap... Mack can't help but trace the tips of his fingers along the other man's collar bone, skimming over the skin of his chest slowly.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes out, and it doesn't matter that it sounds corny because it's fact.

Fitz doesn't quite agree, from the eye rolling he leverages back, but he takes the opportunity to start yanking Mack's shirt up. He can't quite get it off by himself, so Mack takes pity on the other man and takes it off quickly before throwing it away from the bed. He goes in for another kiss, but Fitz pushes him back by the shoulders - his eyes are locked on Mack's chest, and it's the kind of look that would usually have him feeling self conscious, but with Fitz it just makes him feel warm all over.

"Your chest is distracting - it's a menace, you know."

Mack replies with a snort as he taps at Fitz's hips.

"Yeah, well, you're pretty distracting yourself. What do you say we get a little _more_ distracting?"

The way Fitz blushes straight down to his chest tells him that he wasn't being too subtle with his plans, but it's Fitz awkwardly climbing off of him that confirms that they are on the same page. He waits until Fitz is standing in front of the bed before climbing off himself, joining the other man so that they are facing each other. There's a moment of hesitation, and he can't help but think that maybe he's forcing Fitz into something he doesn't want.

"Turbo... Leo, we don't have to do this if you don't want it. I'm not going to lie to you - you're all that I want, and I will do _anything_ I can to save you, but we don't have to do this."

Fitz's chin lifts defiantly before taking a step closer. They aren't touching, but they are close enough where Mack would swear that he can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

"No. I want this, and we're going to have sex. We're grown men, the least we can do is call it like it is. I want to- to... can I?"

His voice is soft but sure as he gestures towards the fly of Mack's pants. At this point, there isn't a thing he could deny Fitz, so he nods dumbly as the other man takes his time undoing his jeans before tugging them down his legs. Mack obediently steps out of his pants when prompted. There's a beat before Fitz drags his boxers down as well. He feels naked in a way that he hasn't before - something about the thorough sweep of Fitz's eyes that feels almost clinical - it makes him feel young and inexperienced.

"Alright, back on the bed where you were."

Nodding obediently, Mack resituates himself with his back to the wall as Fitz makes quick work of the rest of his clothes. It's hard to feel cheated that he isn't the one undressing him when there's so much pale, soft looking skin on display. Fitz catches him staring and smiles shyly at him before crawling back onto the bed and straight into Mack's lap.

It's all warm skin, and Mack can't get enough as he nips at Fitz's lips, pulling him in for another kiss. His hands start to trace over every inch of skin that he can reach, memorizing each shiver and moan like he's going to be tested on it in the morning. It's slow and chaste, despite the general lack of clothing, until Mack finds a quarter-sized spot right behind Fitz's knee that when pressed has him bucking in his lap, trying desperately to escape.

"Haah, noooo. Please, stop - ticklish!"

The attempt to break away only succeeds in pressing their erections together, and for a glorious moment Mack sees stars. Fitz must be feeling it too, because his motions switch from frantic to controlled as he starts rolling his hips in a way that is just shy of the perfect friction. Mack's hands move down to cup Fitz's ass, using his grip to set the pace for the two of them.

It's a nice ass. Firm underneath the soft skin, and the cheeks fit so nicely in each of his hands - he knows that it's crazy, but it feels like this ass was made for him. Taking advantage of the situation, he thrusts up against Fitz while allowing his fingers to explore further until he's brushing teasingly against his hole - just the slightest of pressures before sweeping away. Torn between pressing into Mack's fingers and rocking forward against him, Fitz pulls his lips away and braces himself with both hands.

"I want you to fuck me now. Is that alright?"

Fitz looks so earnest, so sincere, and it's all Mack can do to nod his assent before the other man is out of his lap and rummaging under his bed on his hands and knees. It's a great view, but the satisfied grin on Fitz's face when he unearths a bottle of lube is so much better.

"Now," Fitz starts as he rejoins him on the bed, resuming his position, "I need to know if you're clean."

The surprised look on his face must be enough for Fitz, because he hurries on with his explanation.

"It's not that I don't have any condoms - I have loads - but we know that Piero and Gabi didn't use protection when they had sex. I know, we're working off of limited information, but we're doing this because there's a small chance that it could save my life... and we need to make sure that the- the... that we stick to what we think worked."

Fitz is losing his confidence, and that's not what they need right now. Pulling him closer, nuzzling into his neck, he places kisses along his shoulders and behind his ears.

"Sweetheart, relax. It's a good point, and I don't want you to worry about this right now. This should be about us, and feeling good. I'm clear across the board. There hasn't been anyone in a long while, no one I've been interested in aside from you."

He runs his hands along the other man's arms, trying to put as much comfort and love into the motion as possible. This won't work if they aren't 100% on the same page. They don't have much time, but they have enough to make sure that Fitz wants whatever it is they end up doing.

"This is more than sex to me, so if you want me to run back to my room to get my papers it's not a problem. It's you and me, Fitz. I want you to feel good, and I want you to feel safe here with me."

There's a long pause, but he keeps his mouth shut waiting for a word - any word, from Fitz. Twining their fingers together, he leans back against the wall and waits.

"I love you, Mack," he blurts out like a secret, "I just need you to know that."

With the silence broken, Fitz pushes forward for a chaste kiss before pressing the bottle of lube into Mack's hands.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, I'm ready for you to go about saving my life if you don't mind."

His smile is cheeky and contagious, and Mack knows that he looks like a damn fool as he starts to slick up his fingers with a dorky grin on his face, but Fitz is matching that dorky grin so it's worth it. Pulling him in closer, he circles a finger gently around the other man's hole - teasing and light until Fitz slaps his shoulder with a pout on his face.

"If you don't put something in me soon Mack, I'll... I don't know what I'll do but it won't be you!"

He's ridiculously cute right now, and Mack leans forward to kiss the pout off his lips before sliding a finger in. It's tight and hot, and the little gasps that are being pressed against his mouth are driving him crazy. Smoothing his other hand along Fitz's ribs, he keeps pressing in and out slowly, and it's only when Fitz starts rocking back onto his hand that he adds a second finger.

Kissing down the column of his slender neck, biting small marks into the skin that bloom purple and red within seconds, Mack methodically works Fitz open. Fitz's hands are _everywhere_ \- bracing himself against the wall behind them, dragging his nails along Mack's shoulders, trailing down to gently press their cocks together - just the ghost of contact and pressure before his hands have moved to grip his forearms. He's flushed and gasping for more, pressing back to urge his fingers in deeper.

He's a vision.

It's at his third finger that Fitz starts whining. It's this high-pitched whine, and Mack's not really sure if the other man even realizes that he's making the noise. His eyes are shut, and he's gasping for air, and Mack would be concerned if the other man wasn't grinding into his hand with abandon.

"Do you think you're ready, baby?" He whispers into Fitz's ear, nipping along the sensitive lobe before continuing. "You've been taking my fingers so nicely, but I want you to decide when you're ready for more."

Mack stills his fingers, kissing every inch of skin that he can reach while he waits for Fitz to reply.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready. Now, please."

Huffing a gentle laugh into the other man's cheek, he pulls his fingers out before grabbing the bottle of lube to slick himself up.

"Well, with you asking so nicely, I'll just have to give you what you want, won't I?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before lining himself up and pushing in, fingers flexing on Fitz's hips as he forces himself to allow the other man time to adjust, to let him set his own pace, when all he wants to do is press him all the way down.

It's torturous, feeling Fitz work himself so slowly down his length, but he manages to push down until he's seated flush against Mack. He can feel everything - every gust of breath against his lips, every clench against his cock as Fitz starts to work himself up and down his length. It feels amazing, and he knows that he's not going to last much longer, not the way they've built up to this.

Gripping Fitz by the waist, he starts to thrust up into him where it's all hot, and wet, and tight - using his hands to set a quicker, deeper rhythm.

"Leo... baby, I need you to look at me."

The other man drags his eyes to meet his, and it takes his breath away how wrecked he looks - all swollen lips and dilated pupils.

"I'm not gonna last too long, you feel too good. _You're_ too good. I need you to touch yourself, baby. I want you to come."

He's almost worried that Fitz is too far gone to follow his directions, but he feels one of the hands that's been braced against his chest move down. He watches as Fitz wraps his long fingers around himself, and he knows that it's not going to take much.

Fitz's cock is gorgeous. It's thick, and red, and it's been dripping all over his stomach.

"You look so good like that, sweetheart. Next time, I want to worship you for hours. Would you like that? Just lick you all over until you're a shaking mess. Can you imagine it, baby?"

Fitz throws his head back as he comes all over Mack's chest. He can feel it, warm against his skin, and he can feel the other man clenching around him as he rides through his orgasm. He's on the edge, and it's only a few more thrusts before he's coming deep inside of Fitz.

They cling to each other for longer than Mack could say, and it's with a sense of loss that he pulls his arms away when Fitz stirs to get up. Wincing, the smaller man lifts off, and crab walks to the edge of the bed. The ensuite bathroom door closes behind him, and he can hear vague sounds through the door as Fitz gets himself cleaned up. He returns with a damp washcloth and manipulates Mack's body until he's lying down over the sheets, playing the Big Spoon to Fitz's Little.

It's comfortable, lying there in bed together, but there's a lot that still needs to be said...

"I love you too. I mean it, I've loved you for awhile, and I'm sorry that this is the way you found out. You deserve so much better."

At his words, the other man turns around so that they are facing each other. Fitz looks tired, but there's also a warmth and a contentment there that Mack would do anything to keep on his face.

"I don't think you get the right to decide what I deserve," he starts in, smothering a yawn, "I'm pretty sure that's something I get to decide... and you're what I chose. 'Sex pollen' or no, you're the person I want to be with. So shush, get some sleep. I seem to remember some promises about next time, and I still have awhile left to go before time runs out."

Slinging an arm around him, Mack ducks forward to kiss Fitz soundly before letting his exhaustion pull him under.

+++++

There's an insistent knocking at the door, but he's warm, and he doesn't want to wake up. His muscles ache in the most delicious of ways, and he can _just_ register the heavy weight of Mack's arm draped over him. It's probably the most comfortable that he's ever been.

"Go'way, 'm sleepin'," he mumbles into Mack's chest before snuggling closer. The other man is out like a light and he _would_ be jealous of his deep-sleeping-powers, but he's actually the best pillow ever, so it's okay.

The knocking on the door just gets louder, and he's up dammit, he's getting up. The problem is that just as he's about to swing himself over Mack's prone body the door falls out of the frame and hits the floor with a loud crash.

The following happens within the span of five minutes:

1\. Jemma gets a fantastic view of Mack's very naked ass,  
2\. Mack, the owner of said ass, snaps to attention and takes a defensive position on the bed that does nothing to hide his nakedness from Jemma or Fitz,  
3\. Fitz yells at Jemma to turn around while trying in vain to cover Mack's body with one of his pillows.

It's a very busy five minutes to say the least, but by the time it's through everyone is more or less decent and avoiding eye contact as Jemma sits down on the desk chair while Mack and Fitz settle back into bed.

Clearing her throat, Jemma apologetically smiles at both of them.

"I am _so_ sorry. I hope that you both know that I would _never_ have opened the door without permission, I didn't realize that the door was broken!"

Fitz shoots Mack a dirty look that is immediately shrugged off as the other man takes his hand in his. It's comforting for sure, but it doesn't fix their door problem.

"The reason why I came over, Fitz, is to tell you that I got your blood test results back... and it's not quite what we thought."

He can feel the blood drain from his face, and his stomach goes in knots. It was one thing when they had a vague idea of what he was up against... but what if it was actually worse? Mack's hand is warm in his, and the other man leans closer to bump their shoulders together. It feels like a symbol of solidarity.

"Simmons, what's going on? You're freaking Fitz out right now, and he's not the only one."

It's the guilty twist of her mouth that scares Fitz the most.

"Fitz, I'm not sure if you're going to want Mack here for this. It's very... personal."

"Jemma," he interrupts, "we're obviously past the just friends stage here. Mack knows what's going on, and we're in this together. So... whatever you have to tell me about my condition..."

She nods her head in agreement, "I thought you might say that. The truth about your condition, Fitz, is that you don't seem to have one."

The room goes silent as Fitz locks eyes with Jemma. He must have misheard.

"What do you mean, I don't seem to have one?!" he asks, voice getting tight and pitchy towards the end.

She pushes her paperwork towards the bed, but he can't make his hands work. Mack takes the proffered papers and starts to flip through them as Jemma walks him through, explaining along the way.

"Look, right there. That's a sample taken from Piero this morning - while his body is fighting the pollen, there are still identifiers within the blood. Now, look at this page - this is from Fitz's blood work - there is _no_ trace of the pollen. Obviously, we don't have a sample since all of Fitz's field clothes were burned as a precaution, but I have asked the team to take samples of the flora where Fitz was originally contaminated. I have a feeling that it's regular, run of the mill pollen - bad for your allergies, but certainly not deadly."

Fitz hears the words, but they aren't quite registering. He feels numb, and he needs to be alone.

"Can you two please leave?"

He can feel Mack turn in the bed to face him, but he can't bring himself to look at the other man as he disentangles their hands.

"But, Fitz! I thought this would be fantastic news. You're going to be fine!"

Jemma's confusion is coming through loud and clear in her voice, but he can't be bothered to explain it to her. He pulls the blanket closer around himself, as if it could be used as armor.

"I just... I just want to be alone. Please. Please leave."

Mack is the first to stand, careful to keep himself decent this time as he grabs his clothes and ducks into the ensuite. Fitz couldn't say how long it takes the other man to change, but before he knows it he's back in the room, leaning down for a kiss. It's too much right now, and he flinches away hoping that Mack will understand...

"Alright then, turbo. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

He lifts a hand as if to clasp Fitz on the shoulder, but thinks better of the gesture before nodding a farewell to Jemma and walking out the door - placing it back into the frame before leaving.

Jemma's making to stand up, and he can't keep the tears at bay anymore. He's a mess - sobbing, gasping for breath, curling into himself. It's too much.

"Oh, no - Fitz. Fitz, I'm so sorry. It was supposed to be good news."

She crawls into bed behind him and strokes his hair long after the sobs are reduced to sniffles.

"I love him, Jemma," he starts,  and each word feels like a stab to his heart, "I love him, and I'm afraid that it's all been ruined for nothing."


	2. Containment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll watch your boy today if you promise not to get yourself in any danger." At Mack's scoff he continues, "I know you're beating yourself up over yesterday... and I know it wasn't ideal, but I don't think you should be jumping to any conclusions about the state of your relationship until you talk to Fitz about the whole thing."
> 
> Mack allows himself one moment of hope, that maybe he was wrong and Fitz didn't regret being with him, but it's just a moment. Reality slams home like a freight train and he shake his head before heading back to his room to pack.
> 
> "You didn't see his face, Hunter," he throws over his shoulder, "if you had seen his face you would know better."

The alarm clock next to the bed is blinking angry and red. 4:00AM. Rising to his feet with a heavy sigh, Mack slips on his shoes and heads down to the kitchen. It's been a long night, with less sleeping and more tossing around in bed.

Yesterday had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and while Mack has never been the kind of man to get weighed down by a situation - always the one to be proactive and to the point instead, and he feels stuck. Over the course of hours, he had gone from mourning Fitz, to comforting Fitz... to loving Fitz in a way that he hadn't planned for this morning. It was everything he had wanted, to have this man that he _loves_ in his arms, to be making love to him so intimately, to be so entwined with another. They had fallen asleep together, and it had been perfect.

But then he was jolted awake, and Fitz had never been in danger, and Fitz was shying away from his touch with a haunted look on his face. He hadn't seen that expression in years, and it shook him to his core that he had played a part in it. Fitz hadn't looked like a man in love, or like a man who was remotely okay with what had happened that day. Which, was understandable.

Just because it was understandable didn't mean Mack was able to sleep any easier. It's a little difficult to go from the worst day of his life, to the best day, to somewhere in the grey area between. He had started out his night waiting in his room, hoping that Fitz would come to him - that they could discuss it. Hours spent waiting, when finally Simmons knocked at his door. She didn't say much, just a sad shake of the head and a muttered apology. It was enough to make it clear that the best thing he could do was back off.

The fact that he's not wanted does nothing to diminish the bone deep need he has to take care of the other man. It's like his head and his heart are at war, except there may be nothing left to win and the greatest casualty is his ability to sleep.

Turning into the kitchen he almost jumps out of his skin. He had expected to be alone, but Bobbi and Hunter have made themselves at home with a loaf of bread, some peanut butter, a jar of raspberry jelly, and a gallon of milk. Their clothes are wrinkled, and Bobbi could definitely stand to run a brush through her hair, but they look happy. He's about to turn back when Hunter catches sight of him.

"Mack! Come, join us as we feast on the best S.H.I.E.L.D. has to offer." Hunter gets up to grab another plate and glass while Bobbi scoots over enough on the bench for Mack to join her. "What's got you up at this ungodly hour? I figured that you and Fitz would be celebrating his good fortune right about now. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a brush with death."

Hunter's back is still turned to him as he gathers supplies, but Mack's face must be speaking volumes because suddenly Bobbi's got an arm around him.

"Hunter, can you leave us alone for a bit?" Bobbi asks, her voice soft and concerned.

Mack can see the other man's look of concern when he turns around, arms filled with everything you could possibly need for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Yeah, I can do that. I was about to go grab that _thing_ -"

"No," Mack interrupts, "there's nothing to talk about. You don't have to leave... I was actually just walking around to clear my head."

"Not for nothing, but you don't look like there's nothing to talk about. You look like shit." Hunter joins them at the table, his face serious as he slathers a healthy amount of peanut butter on a slice of bread before turning his focus to the jam. "I know yesterday was tough on all of us..." he pauses long enough to slide the sandwich towards Mack, "but Fitz is alive and well. I know how you feel about him. Hell, we all do - have for awhile now."

He can feel Bobbi's hand gently stroking over his back - it's soothing, but it _grates_ against his nerves.

"How I feel about him doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure that any chance of a relationship with Fitz went up in smoke the second we slept together yesterday. We thought he was dead, and we acted without thinking it through, and he flinched away from me. You don't come back from that. So yeah, there's nothing to talk about right now. There's nothing going on between us."

It's more than he wanted to say, but once he started it was like he couldn't stop. It's quiet now, though. Just the tick of the wall clock and the heavy silence of his coworkers. His friends. Bobbi's hand disappeared sometime during his confession and the heavy weight that's been hanging over him since he left Fitz's room yesterday is suffocating.

"Mack... what happened? You didn't force him to -"

"Bobbi, Mack would _never_. Right, Mack?" Hunter flashes an encouraging, if dim smile across the table, and Mack can already anticipate their disappointment.

" It was... I thought we both wanted it. I had... I had hoped that your dumbass theory was right, Hunter, that having sex with him would save his life. We both had hoped, but then Jemma comes in maybe an hour later to tell us that Fitz was never in danger."

The silence of the room is stifling, so he keeps going, if only to prolong the inevitable rejection from his friends.

"He would never have agreed if he knew. That right there, that's all I need to know, because that's not how I do things. I just needed him to be safe, and I needed him to know how loved he is... just in case. It just happened."

"Mack. Did he say that he didn't want it? When you were together, did Fitz ever say that he didn't want to be with you?"

He takes in a breath at Hunter's question, because he had been so set in his need to save Fitz - to love him, to be with him for whatever window of time they had, that he didn't stop to think about a morning after or the luxury of regret.

"Yeah. Yeah, when we first kissed... he told me that he didn't want me like that, that it was too fast. I... I was so scared to lose him. I told him everything, about how I love him. I told him, and he said that he loved me back, and I thought it was fine. We loved each other, and I thought it was _fine_ , but you should have seen his face after. He looked sick over what happened, and he _flinched_ when I tried to touch him."

Bobbi's hand is back, rubbing soothingly against his shoulders - it's only after she hands him a paper napkin that he realizes that he's been crying.

"Mack," her voice is soft, but he can hear the steel running through it, "get a pack together. I'm due to rendezvous with the second field team in an hour, and we can use all the bodies we can get. You don't get to veto this - I need your help and you need to get away for a bit."

"Let him eat his sandwich first, woman!" Hunter leans over the table to nudge the plate closer, and Mack forces himself to take a bite. "He's going to need his strength if he's going to be trekking through the Peruvian forest looking for god knows what!"

At that, Bobbi slides out of the booth and heads out of the kitchen to finish packing, leaving Hunter to clean up after their feast. It's quiet between the two of them - Mack eating his sandwich and Hunter humming quietly to himself as he washes the dishes in the sink. It's when Mack has finished his sandwich and stands to leave that Hunter speaks again.

"I'll watch your boy today if you promise not to get yourself in any danger." At Mack's scoff he continues, "I know you're beating yourself up over yesterday... and I know it wasn't ideal, but I don't think you should be jumping to any conclusions about the state of your relationship until you talk to Fitz about the whole thing."

Mack allows himself one moment of hope, that maybe he was wrong and Fitz didn't regret being with him, but it's just a moment. Reality slams home like a freight train and he shake his head before heading back to his room to pack.

"You didn't see his face, Hunter," he throws over his shoulder, "if you had seen his face you would know better."

+++++

He's on his third cup of coffee, which is three cups of coffee more than he's used to - perhaps going back for seconds and thirds wasn't his best idea, but he's felt twitchy and unsettled for hours. At least the coffee gives him an excuse. Fitz allows the warmth of the mug to warm his hands as he walks toward the briefing room.

His body is thrumming with nerves and excitement at the opportunity to see Mack. Needless to say, he hasn't seen him since last night, and really he didn't expect any different. Mack had made it clear where he would be if Fitz had wanted him... and it's not that Fitz doesn't _want_ Mack. He had meant it last night, when he had told Mack that he loved him. It had all been so intense, but he had felt so safe and loved, and Mack had taken such good care of him. It had been good, but it was still _so_ much, so when Jemma had come in, he had felt like the bottom had fallen out of the haven they had made together.

He had panicked. No other way to put it, but it had been so much all at once. After last night, what had once been a healthy crush (alright, infatuation is probably more appropriate) had blossomed into a warm feeling that he could feel all over from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Honestly, looking back after a long heart to heart with Jemma and a few hours of sleep, it was no surprise that he freaked out when the bubble had been burst. They had gone from zero to sixty without so much as a movie date. All he could think was that Mack had only been with him because he was about to die - would he still want Fitz when he stuck around? Jemma had only listened to that line of thought for a moment before shutting it down, and he owed her for his remaining sanity.

After all, she was correct - perhaps it's not the most traditional beginning to a relationship, but there are worse ways to find out that the object of your affection returns your feelings... Fitz could have _actually_ been on the verge of death, for example.

All in all, he's feeling pretty good - if not a little nervous, as he takes a seat between Skye and Trip. He does his best not to be obvious about it as he scans the room, but one look at Jemma's face across the table makes it clear that he's anything but subtle. It's not _his_ fault that Mack is late. It's a matter of respect for the rest of the team, and his indignation has nothing to do with how much he wants to see the other man so they can clear the whole thing up. Nope. Nothing to do with that at all.

They wait a few more minutes as the team trickles in, Coulson coming in and closing the door behind him. Mack still hasn't joined the group, but he may be running a bit late. Settling back in his chair, Fitz takes a sip of his coffee and does his best to pay attention as the briefing begins.

"Alright, so let's get the good news out of the way first. Agent Simmons's tests showed that Fitz wasn't actually exposed to the contagion." Coulson shoots a smile his way before continuing. "We may have jumped to a few conclusions yesterday, but it was a good practice run for today. We still have agents in the field, and we need to be prepared for anything. Skye, fill us in on the field team's status."

Skye pulls up a map of the area before standing to address the team. "We received word from the first field team that when they returned to the site they didn't find anything out of the ordinary. The team is sending back some samples, just to be sure, but they are currently en route to the second field team's location. The secondary team found multiple bodies in the area, all exhibiting the same signs of infection that the other victims showed."

She continues along with the presentation, which includes some incredibly graphic images of the bodies that had been found while indicating where they had been discovered on the map. "As you can see, we have narrowed down where we believe the point of origin is, based on where these bodies were discovered. Both field teams are being lead by Bobbi on site, and she will be coordinating the search efforts. She sent word an hour ago that Mack was headed back to base with samples from each of the bodies, as well as samples from the local vegetation. He should be back here in approximately two hours, so Simmons, we're going to need you to get a team together in preparation. Whoever you need - _whatever_ you need, just say the word."

Jemma nods in agreement. "Give me thirty minutes and I'll get a list together for you."

Skye shuts down her PowerPoint, but doesn't move to sit down. "I'm currently working on digging up as much information as possible on the local region. I've been looking at news reports, local legends, recent obituaries - basically, anything I can get my hands on. Right now, it's just been myself and Agent Koenig, but we can use all the extra eyes and hands that we can get. Trip and Hunter, I could use your help with this."

Both men nod in agreement as Skye takes a seat. Fitz can't help but notice that he hasn't been assigned outright to any of the various groups, but before he can ask about it Coulson calls the briefing to a close. Everyone starts to disperse, and Fitz stands to go after the Director for an assignment when Trip pulls him aside.

"Hey, man. I just want to say congrats, you know. For not being infected. We all were afraid that you were a goner, and I know that the team wouldn't have been the same."

It takes Fitz by surprise. He had been so caught up in his own drama that it hadn't occurred to him that anyone else was worried. Perhaps it was selfish of him to be holed up yesterday, waiting to die like some soap opera character while the rest of the team was concerned. Certainly, he had known that Jemma was upset... and Mack had made clear how concerned he was last night. But the rest of the team?

It's only after the other man clears his throat that Fitz realizes he's been standing like a loon, caught up in his internal monologue while Trip stands there waiting for some kind of reaction.

"Um. Thanks, I guess. It's good to be alive?"

With a laugh, Trip claps him on the shoulder before heading off down the hall. Fitz finds himself alone, standing just outside the briefing room, and he feels discombobulated. Sure, he still could go track down Coulson, ask for a job to do until Mack gets back... but even the three cups of coffee can't keep the exhaustion hanging over him at bay.

He decides to head back to his room - broken door or no broken door, a nap sounds like a good plan. Warm blankets, soft pillows, the scent of Mack's aftershave still lingering. It's tempting, but the very idea of Mack being in his bed sparks against the niggling doubts at the back of his mind.

Fitz had woken up this morning hoping to speak with Mack, to figure out where they stood. He had woken up feeling optimistic, and Mack had gone into the field. Mack must have left soon after their time together. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Fitz remembers how rejected Mack had looked last night, how soft and sad he had sounded before walking out the door. Maybe... maybe he should have gone to him last night? He hadn't been ready, even Jemma has encouraged him to take his time before taking the next step - but maybe Mack would still be here _with_ him if he had sucked it up. Perhaps it's narcissistic to think that the other man's assignment was in any way about them, but it feels like it is.

Shaking his head, Fitz immediately shoots down the negative line of thought. Mack is a blunt man, not the kind of person to avoid conflict when he could face it head on instead. He can't judge Mack based on the ghosts of his own past experiences - Mack isn't Jemma, and it's important to remember that.

Hope once again buoyant in his chest, Fitz goes to push his door open only to be met with resistance. Pushing harder, shoulder braced against the door while his hands wrestle with the knob, he's reduced to a panting, frustrated mess when he registers the sound of footsteps falling behind him.

"You're not going to have much luck getting into Mack's room without his keycard, no matter how long you molest the door." Fitz can hear the amusement in Hunter's voice as his brain rushes to catch up to what he said.

"Wha- no, this isn't... um..." He can _feel_ the stupid look on his face, but it's impossible to avoid as he takes in the room number prominently displayed on the door that is decidedly **not** broken - this is quite clearly not his room. "I was a little caught up in my... caught in- in my... please don't tell Mack about this."

Hunter laughs, but it lacks his usual levity. "I think I can manage keeping this between us, but we need to have a talk before your man gets back." His arms are crossed against his chest, and Fitz knows better than to deny knowing what - or rather, who - Hunter is talking about.

"I can't think of a single reason why you and I would need to talk about my relationship with Mack." Hunter's gaze is withering - it would be so easy to bend to the other man, but the very idea that he is owed anything - let alone a conversation, is maddening. "This thing between us has nothing to do with you."

"That's fair, I can respect that. So, I suggest that instead of us having a dialogue you just shush and listen to your uncle Hunter."

Fitz can _feel_ his cheeks flush in aggravation only to sputter in indignation when Hunter reaches over to place his hand firmly over his mouth.

"You're getting that squirrely look in your eyes, Fitz. Settle down, and just listen, okay? Because your time with Mack shouldn't be my business - and _God_ knows that I'm not the person that should be lecturing you on relationships, but no one else is stepping up at the moment. At the end of the day, you're going to do what you feel is right, but I've known Mack for years and he's pretty damn close to being family at this point, so someone needs to give you the talk. So. If you agree to listen, I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, and we're going to hash this out. Then, we will never speak of this again."

Dumbfounded, Fitz can only nod. Hunter looks relieved as he removes his hand, making a show out of wiping it off on his pants.

"I don't know everything that happened last night, but I know enough to be concerned that you're going to fuck it all up. You're the least subtle person on base, which is disconcerting when you're out in the field, but that's a story for another day, eh? The point is that I've known how you feel about Mack for ages. It's the most annoying love story of the ages, since he's been gone on you from day one, but I always assumed you two would get it together."

Hunter shrugs wearily before leaning back against the wall. "I understand that congratulations are in order, since you both finally pulled your heads out of your asses long enough to take your relationship to the next level last night. Of course, it's all backwards since Mack is beating himself up over the fact that _you don't want him_. Something about you being unable to be in the same room with him after the fact, perhaps flinching away?"

Fitz's mouth goes dry at the other man's implications. "That's not fair, and I don't appreciate your tone. You weren't there, and even if you had been you don't know the first thing about how I feel about Mack."

"See, Fitz, that's the thing. I'm pretty sure that I've got an excellent idea of how you feel for him. It's clear as anything on your face. You look at him like he shits gold and sings like Beyoncé. I never said that I agreed with Mack on this, but it's important that you know where his head is. Mack is 100% in this. He's gone on you, but he is also under the impression that it's not mutual. That's why we're having this little tête-à-tête."

Shifting closer, Hunter claps both of his hands against Fitz's shoulders - grabbing on to give him a hearty shake. "You need to figure out exactly what you want from Mack before he gets back, and then you need to fix this. The longer you two dance around this, the harder it's going to be for Mack to believe that it's _him_ that you want and that you don't regret being with him."

Removing his hands to stuff them deep into his pockets, Hunter steps back and pivots to start walking towards the lab.

"I'm not saying that you should marry the man, but if you want to be with him I think it's about time to let him know without the threat of death hanging over your heads." Throwing a wink over his shoulder, he rounds the corner and leaves Fitz alone with his thoughts.

With a roll of the shoulders and a resigned sigh, Fitz tries the door again before remembering where he is.

"Crap."

+++++

Hours of trampling through the Peruvian forest has shockingly done little to lighten Mack's mood. The entire exercise was a failure, if the objective was to get his mind focused off of Fitz, because every step brought back the fear that he had felt yesterday. Every single body that they took samples from was a reminder of what _could_ have been.

Bitching about it to Bobbi wasn't an option, since she had immediately taken up command of the field agents. There just wasn't enough time to mope, get the job done, _and_ wait for Bobbi to make time for him. He could only pick two options, so he went with the first two and went about his morning with his head down and a tension in his shoulders that kept mounting with every step.

Luckily, there were enough agents on location that Mack was soon cleared to head back to the base with a case of samples on each arm. It was only a few hours in the field, but it was more than long enough. His mood had been tested all morning, and in the end Bobbi had waved him back to the Quinjet without a word - just a stern glance after he snapped at one of the scientists. He refused to feel guilty about his attitude, not when he spent the last hour assuring this kid that _yes_ he understood the importance of not jostling the samples. This kid is maybe nineteen at most, and he's been on Mack's ass all morning, just "making sure everything's handled appropriately." Frankly, his feet hurt, his shoulders are killing him, his heart _aches_ , and if he gets a little snippy with this kid it's really the best case scenario for everyone.

With a jaunty wave to Bobbie and a sneer at the kid, he climbs into the Quinjet while making a pointed effort to avoid upsetting the samples. After securing the cases and signaling that he was ready, Mack took a moment to secure his restraints before closing his eyes. If he could catch some sleep on the way back the trip could be classified as a success.

Apparently he had been more tired than he had realized, because Mack doesn't open his eyes again until he's being roused by the pilot. Making a quick exit, he waives the pilot off while handing the sample cases off to the R&D team before going through the decontamination procedures. It's all very clinical and painless, and before he knows it he's wrapped in a fluffy towel and pulling out the change of clothes that he keeps in the garage so that he can avoid the long walk to his room.

He's got one leg in his pants when he can _feel_ a pair of leering eyes on him.

"Heeeeeeeeey, Mack. Welcome back, buddy! _Please_ , don't put pants on just on _my_ account."

With a sigh, he struggles to get both legs into his pants before pulling them up. It's only after he's zipped up the fly and buttoned the pants that he turns around to greet Skye in turn.

"What's going on, Skye? Did I miss anything exciting this morning?"

The quirk of her brows is enough warning that Mack pretty much expects the turn in conversation.

"Well, you missed our team briefing this morning. Good news about Fitz, huh? I don't know about you, but I was certain that his time was running out." Her eyes are impish as she continues on, "of course, you would never know that he had a clean bill of health with the faces he pulled after he found out that you volunteered for the field mission."

"C'mon, Skye. You know I didn't volunteer for the mission. I was sitting next to Bobbi when she told you about it." He tries to level a stern look her way, but it only seems to feed into her teasing.

"Oh. Is _that_ what Bobbi was going on about? Huh. I guess you're going to have to clear that up with Fitz, huh?" She's practically bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet as she starts to crowd him out of the garage towards their rooms. "You should probably go sort it all out now, right?"

He can feel the tension in his shoulders as he walks, and the thought alone of seeing Fitz at this point has his stomach curdling. It's just too much.

"I don't know why you're so eager to get rid of me, but I thought I was supposed to debrief with Simmons and the rest of her crew. I pretty much just handed off the samples before going through decontamination, and I didn't have a chance to explain what's going on."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I got a call from one of the field agents... I think his name was Carter? Something with a C, but whatever. He called to make sure that the samples arrived safely to Simmons." Her sigh is heavy and annoyed as she throws a pained eye-roll his way. "The guy had me on the phone for at least forty minutes. I probably know more about those samples at this point than you do, so don't worry."

"You spoke to Cooper? Let me guess, nasal voice - too many words with too few breaths in between?"

Skye's laugh is a loud bark as she nods. "Oh God, yes! The sheer amount of condescension he leveled at me was unbelievable! I mean, he actually asked me how many PhDs I have, and would only speak with me after I refused to transfer him to Simmons. Frankly, next time I'll just put him through. No one should have to suffer that more than once."

"Tell me about it... try spending all morning with him trailing after you to make sure that you don't accidentally ruin everything with my 'sausage fingers' - his words, not mine." At Skye's snort he turns to her, indignant. "Hey, you laugh, but this kid was nineteen and he was lecturing me, _me_ , on the importance of paying attention and using a delicate hand. These 'sausage fingers' work with delicate machinery on a daily basis."

"Hmmm, is that all your fingers work on, Mack?" There's an awkward pause as Mack struggles to catch up to what she's hinting at, but she flits on to the next topic before he can get his bearings. "On _that_ note, you should totally go talk to Fitz. I've already filled Simmons in on the samples, and we're really all set on the research front. I'm pretty sure that Fitz is in his room right now, so you should head on over. We can catch up more later!"

"Look, Skye. I don't know what you're trying to get at right now, but you're not helping. The last thing I should be doing right now is talking to Fitz." At the sight of her visibly deflating, he can feel the heaviness continue to weigh down on him. "What the hell has been happening around here where you're involved in this? Why are you pushing me to go talk with him?"

"Well, nothing's really happened. I just think that after yesterday you two should-"

"Wait, wait. What do you mean 'after yesterday'? I'm pretty sure that we're all glad that Fitz wasn't actually contaminated with the pollen, so why are you so concerned with _me_ talking to him?"

"Mack. We both know that more went down yesterday than Fitz getting 'infected'. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. I mean, did you really think that Hunter would be able to keep his mouth closed?"

He can feel the blood drain from his face as Skye's words hit home.

"Skye, does everyone know?" He knows that his words are coming out weak and shaky, but the alternative is yelling. At this point, no one else is to blame but himself - it was his decision to open up to Bobbi and Hunter this morning, he should have known better. "Does _everyone_ know?! It wasn't supposed to be gossip fodder for the team. It was private, damnit."

Hey eyes are huge and round at this point, but it's her silence that's the real problem because it speaks louder than anything that she could be saying. As bad as her silence is, it's the clearing of a throat behind them that makes the situation even worse because it's Fitz. It takes everything he has to force himself to turn and face the younger man.

"Hey, Mack," Fitz's eyes are trained on his like a laser, and Mack can't make himself maintain eye contact. "I was hoping to catch you when you got back. Would you be able to come fix my door? I haven't had much in the way of privacy, what with not being able to properly close my door..."

There's a pause there, and it's almost painful how awkward it feels. It's such a difference from how it felt last night that Mack finds that he has trouble finding the right words, so he forgoes the effort and nods in agreement. Fitz, while still looking uncomfortable, looks relieved - as if he had expected Mack to refuse him. As if Mack could refuse Fitz anything at this point.

"Alrighty then, I guess we'll be going?" Mack can only nod again, but Fitz seems to be taking his non-verbal answers and running with them. With a slight wave to Skye he turns on his heel and heads off towards his room without a second glace. Mack doesn't bother saying goodbye to Skye, he just starts following the other man and does his best to figure out how to apologize to Fitz for essentially telling the entire team about their night together without ruining their relationship beyond repair.

They walk in silence until they reach Fitz's door, and even then it's quiet as Mack starts working on replacing the door's hinges. It's mindless work that allows him to go along on cruise control, and before he knows it the door is once again opening and closing smoothly in the frame.

"Hey, Turbo? Would you try getting in with your keycard, just to make sure that everything's still hooked up and that we're good to go?"

Fitz hops up to his feet from where he's situated himself on the bed, grabbing his wallet before heading out of the room, closing his door behind him. There's a moment's delay before the telltale beep of the keycard being read and Fitz lets himself back into the room. Mack turns to gather the tools back together when he hears the metallic click of the door locking. Turning back towards the door, he can see that Fitz has essentially starfished himself against the door - as if that would stop Mack from getting out if that's what he was trying to do.

"Fitz?"

"Ah, Mack, the thing is that we should talk. Please take a seat?"

There's a beat then, followed by a second and a third. The silence between them stretches, but Mack can't force himself to find the words to fix this. There's a twitching in his jaw that throbs, but he can't stop himself from grinding his teeth as the other man quirks an eyebrow towards him. It just feels like failure after failure, and his mistakes keep piling up - errors in judgment, like last night when he had assumed Fitz was on the same page, or this morning when he decided to confide in Hunter.

He feels defeated, but he can't deny Fitz - even now, when all he wants to do is run off with his tail between his legs, he takes a seat on the bed and waits.

"I believe that I owe you an apology. It's come to my attention that I may have given you the wrong impression of my feelings after last night." Fitz's eyes are pretty much screaming with sincerity, so it's almost too much to bear. "It was never my intention to make you feel like I- like... like I regretted being with you."

"Hey, Turbo. It's okay. Really." Every word feels like sandpaper against his throat, but the least he can do for Fitz is to allow him the opportunity to let him down easy without worrying too much about Mack's feelings. "Yesterday was... there was a lot going on, and sometimes shit happens. For all you knew, you were a dead man, and people can act out of character when they don't have much time left. I would never hold your feelings against you."

With a steadying breath, Mack forces himself to meet Fitz's eyes before continuing with his train of thought. "Anyways, I'm the one that should apologize. I was trying to process everything this morning, and I just needed to talk it out with someone, and I trusted the wrong person. I'm sorry, because I'm pretty sure that what happened between us isn't a secret anymore - there's no excuse and I'm sorry."

Fitz sighs, and it's a pained noise. He shuffles closer, away from the door, until he's standing within breathing distance of Mack. Pulling the desk chair over, Fitz sits down and scoots it closer until he's effectively wedged between Mack's legs.

"I don't want this to be a secret." Quiet yet firm, Mack can feel each syllable that falls from the other man's mouth sink down to his bones. "I don't care if you tell everyone on base, Mack. If you wanted, I would get my mother on the phone right now to tell her that I _landed_ you last night, because you're _it_. Last night we skipped a lot of steps, but I don't regret anything except for the fact that you seem to think that I regret you. I could never, never, _never_ regret being with you."

Mack's heart feels like it's barely beating.

It's too much, and he can't bear to hope that this is anything but another misunderstanding. "How can you say that, Fitz? Your face, last night, you looked _broken_. I don't know how to process that. I don't know how to come back from that."

He can feel Fitz's hands, gentle and shaking as they cup his neck - stroking up and down softly before moving up to cup Mack's face. With a firm shake of his head, he pulls back far enough to meet Fitz's gaze.

"The way you looked, it was the same expression my mother wore for years. My old man was always too rough with her, too careless. Never enough to leave bruises, but he always made it clear that he _could_ , and I can't be the one putting that look on your face again, Fitz. I can't, I promised I would never be that man."

The other man visibly deflates in front of him. It's all he can do to stop his hands from reaching out to comfort Fitz, to hold himself back from whispering sweet words into that pale, soft skin.

"I didn't handle last night well, Mack. It was... it- it was a lot to take in all at once, and I needed time. I don't know what you saw in my face last night that's got you so spooked. I can only tell you what I felt." Fitz's hands are back, thumbs sweeping against Mack's cheekbones with purpose - his eyes darting around as if he's trying to take in all of Mack at once. "I was so, _so_ scared that I had ruined our chance. I was afraid, because we went from being coworkers to lovers so quickly - lovers in every sense of the word because I _meant_ it last night when I told you I love you. I've loved you for what feels like ages, and all I could think - all I could focus on was the fact that we had rushed in for nothing."

Fitz leans forward, and Mack braces himself for a kiss that doesn't come. Instead, the other man presses their foreheads together as his fingers continue to stroke along the planes of his face, all feather light and insistent.

"It wasn't nothing, Mack. I don't care that we were wrong about the pollen. I don't care that it was rushed, or that everyone knows now. It's been brought to my attention by no less than three separate agents today that there was an actual betting pool set up around when we would get our acts together." Mack can hear the smile in Fitz's voice, and it warms him to his toes. "It wasn't ideal, but last night was honest, and I think that's probably better than waiting for the perfect moment. I love you, truly, and I'm ready for us to get our acts together."

It's quiet between them, but all the tension that Mack had been carrying in his shoulders is gone. He feels weightless and a little drunk as he flexes his hands once, twice, three times before pulling Fitz closer - closing the distance between them until it's all warm and perfect and snug. They stay there, wrapped in each other's arms, and it's so much more than Mack had expected when he had woken up this morning. He had been so sure that it was regret that Fitz was feeling that he hadn't taken the time to imagine what it would be like if his feelings were returned.

Snorting softly against the column of Fitz's neck, he nuzzles in closer and relaxes into the faint scent of laundry detergent and Irish Spring. "You know, I spent all day scared out of my damn mind. It wasn't being in the field, or the risk of contact with the pollen. I was terrified that we would never have _this_ , and I don't know how I would have dealt with it. I spent awhile considering transferring to a different team, or just leaving all together."

He can feel Fitz's muscles tense at his confession, but the other man doesn't say a word, so he starts working his hands along his back to work out the tension. It's only after Fitz has relaxed against him, jelly limbs and soft contented hums, that he continues. "I thought about it a lot this morning, but I was going to stay. The idea of leaving, of not being able to ask your opinion on a project... never playing video games together, or seeing if I can make you snort your juice out your nose again... I'm probably a bit of a masochist, but I was going to stay because it would have been worth it. I could handle the awkwardness and the guilt. I would have been okay trying to be friends... but this right here is _so_ much better than my game plan, Turbo."

"Well, of course this is a better plan - your old plan sounds horrible! No more planning for you, Mack. Never again. I'm obviously better equipped to be the brains of this operation. I'll make the plans, and you can translate them to the rest of the team."

"Oh, so now you've got jokes, huh?" Mack can't help but laugh as he his head back far enough to take in Fitz's smug face. It feels good to laugh, and having Fitz in his arms when he's doing it? It's the best he's felt all day, hands down. "Yeah sweetheart, I think I can get behind that plan. I'm with you all the way if you've got the space for me to tag along."

At the term of endearment, Fitz's cheeks pink slightly - the small smile he wears is perfect, and again Mack can't help but wonder at how he got here.

"There's always going to be room for you, Mack." The way the words come out, it's matter of fact and simple. There's nothing to question as Mack tilts his head slightly forward to brush his lips against Fitz's. It's a barely there touch but it's perfect as they slowly, tenderly deepen the kiss. It's languid and lazy, and the moment becomes hazy - the desperation of yesterday is gone as they learn from each other. Fitz traces his tongue along the seam of Mack's lips and it's wet, and hot, and so good. With a groan, Mack surges against the other man to press ever closer while their tongues slide against each other. It's not a fight for dominance, just a pleasant dragging give and take.

Fitz pulls away after awhile, lips puffy and cheeks gorgeously flushed, only to groan after glancing at the clock. "As much as I want to stay here doing _that_ all day, we have a briefing in fifteen minutes."

It's probably for the best, Mack thinks as he hauls himself up to his feet. If they had been allowed to stay in Fitz's room all day he's not sure he would have been content to keep their activities to kissing. They haven't discussed the state of their relationship yet, and he doesn't want to assume that their fast-forwarding yesterday would set the pace for the rest of their time together. Reaching out, he snags one of Fitz's hands, twining their fingers together and squeezing gently. The smile that Fitz throws his way is gorgeous. It's everything that Mack has wanted wrapped into a quirk of the lips.

"Okay, Turbo. Let's get this show on the road."

+++++

It's difficult to remember that it's only been two days. Fitz can't help but chuckle under his breath, because it feels like it's been days - weeks even - and he feels emotionally wrung out.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Mack's voice is light, but there's still a hint of worry in his eyes. Taking the opportunity to squeeze the other man's hand where they are grasped, Fitz throws a smile his way.

"Well, you know how they say time flies when you're having fun? The past two days have been the exact opposite." He plants his feet firmly in place, and Mack follows his silent cue. Pushing up to his toes, Fitz presses a soft kiss against Mack's lips followed by another and another. "Still wouldn't change a thing."

"Me neither, Turbo. Still, we should probably get going if we don't want to be late to the briefing." With a gentle tug, Mack leads the way down the hall towards the lab. It feels so good to be walking hand in hand - it's almost natural, despite the fact that it's something they haven't done before. Mack's hand is warm, and large, and perfect against Fitz's hand, and he knows that he's smiling like an idiot. He's Mack's idiot, though, so it's perfectly acceptable.

They join the rest of the gang in the garage, and it's only a little surprising that no one makes a fuss over them - what with their held hands and the way that Fitz leans into Mack's personal space so that they are pressed side to side. Jemma may throw a thumbs up their way, and Skye smirks in their direction, but it's all business as they gather around the holo display.

"Now that we're all here," Skye starts as she moves to stand in front of the display, "let's dig right in. I believe that we've figured out what may be at the root of the contagion. We stumbled across a local legend that details a totem that was essentially linked to the gods and fertility. It's written that every year there was a festival where the totem was brought out to essentially "bless" the crops and people to ensure a bountiful year."

She turns to the display and pulls up a map, which has several areas highlighted. "Each area that's been circled actually turned up a different version of this story, and many of them go back hundreds of years. Most of what we have to go on is based on verbal history, passed down over the generations. It's not the most scientific method, but it does indicate that this is a good place to start. One of the most detailed accountings that we have come across came from the diary of a local missionary. I'm not going to read the entire thing, but here are the important bits: the totem was described as a beautiful, serene face - neither female nor male. It looked like polished stone until a "sacrifice of bounty" was presented, at which point it would glow blue for a full lunar cycle. We don't know what the sacrifice actually was at this point. The plants were rumored to triple in size, and any women who took part in the celebrations could be sure to bear strong children that year. Apparently twins and triplets were the norm under the influence of the totem. Here's the really interesting part, when the missionary asked where the totem had come from, he was told about the day the blue people descended from the sky with gifts. They were given the totem in exchange for four children - two male, and two female. The blue gods left instructions and then took to the sky never to be seen again."

Fitz risks a glance towards Coulson, but the man's face gives nothing away. Skye is still talking, so he focuses back towards her.

"Now, if you look at this map here, we are having the field teams focus on the areas highlighted in blue. We are still narrowing down the point of contamination based upon the bodies that we found, but now we have more information to go on. What Piero failed to mention when we first brought him in, is that he was part of a raiding team that was looting for valuable artifacts. He has been very helpful, and was able to help us pinpoint some promising sites. What we've been considering is the fact that the legends peter off, and there has been no modern indication of the totem, so it's possible that it was sealed up in a tomb or temple."

Skye shuts down the hologram and smiles at the group in front of her. "We are still researching, but we're closing in. Bobbi radioed in to confirm that so far there have been no other casualties or bodies found. Other than that, no new updates. We're too keep moving forward as we have been, so if there aren't any questions let's get back to work!"

"Hey, Fitz," Mack murmurs to his ear, "I'll be right back, I need to have a quick chat with Hunter. Wait for me?"

He can only nod as the other man leans down to place a kiss on his cheek before stalking over towards the merc. Hunter pales slightly before cracking up, so taken with his laughter that he's doubled over cackling before Mack's within arm's reach. The laughter only increases once Mack starts talking, and they are far enough away that Fitz can't listen in, but he's not sure that he wants to know what they are discussing.

"Ahem!" He's distracted from the scene Hunter's causing by Skye coming up and landing a punch to his shoulder. It's a hard enough hit that he has to force himself to not wince, but it's a close one and his face must speak volumes without his meaning it to because her eyes are sparkling with mirth. "It looks like you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, huh?"

"I don't think I should dignify that with a response, Skye. Especially since it's been brought to my attention that there was a pool for when we would get together."

"Hey now, don't be bitter! You're alive and well, and you've got that handsome piece of man hanging off of you in briefings. I wasn't sure if you had it in you, but I'm proud of you man." She moves forward to pull him into a brief hug before pulling back to bounce on the balls of her feet. "Really, what's a little betting pool amongst friends? I mean, look! Your boy even has Simmons' approval."

Turning towards where Mack had cornered Hunter, he's a little bemused to see that the merc is nowhere to be seen, and in his place is Jemma. She's got the larger man wrapped up in a tight hug, and Fitz wishes that he was standing close enough to hear what she's whispering into Mack's ear. Whatever it is, it causes Mack to lift her high enough to spin her around before placing her back on the ground. They are all smiles as Mack catches his eye, and they make their way over.

"Oh, Fitz, I was just telling Mack here how happy I am for the two of you. It's so nice to see the two of you so happy!" Jemma is all smiles as she pushes forward to hug Fitz. It's been better between them lately, and it's a relief that they've reached the point in their relationship where they can hug without fear of awkwardness.

"Of course they're happy, I mean, I would be happy too if I was getting with all that." Fitz can feel an unfortunate twinge of possessiveness run up his spine when he pulls back from Jemma to see that Skye is basically undressing Mack with her eyes. "Why, just this morning I got a healthy eye-full of Mack in all his naked glory!"

Mack's discomfort is obvious, as he backs away from Skye to stand closer to Fitz. "I didn't have much choice in the matter, since you ambushed me while I was changing!"

"C'mon, Mack. Don't take away from what we had this morning. I thought we shared a moment while you were struggling with your pants! Seriously, Fitz, you don't want to let this one go - he's like 93% muscle." Skye's obviously enjoying playing mischief maker, but at this point he's had enough of the team environment.

"I have absolutely no intention of letting this one go, thank you very much! After a careful examination, I can confirm that Mack is actually 97% muscle, and I'm not about to share a percentage of it with anyone. So! If you don't mind, we are going to go so that Mack can struggle out of his pants again - with my help it shouldn't be too strenuous." He knows that it's ridiculous, but it feels good to get that out. It feels even better to grab Mack's hand with purpose, pulling him back towards his room. He can't resist turning back to Skye, who seems to be having the time of her life next to a blushing Jemma. "Oh, and Skye? You totally are paying me back for the whole betting pool thing. You should have known better - next time I expect you to let me know... we could have both profited."

Mack manages a wave as they hurry back out of the garage, matching Fitz's pace as he heads back to his bedroom. They are almost to the door when Mack pulls back, tugging Fitz so that he's pressed against the wall.

"I know that you were trying to get back at Skye, but I want you to know that I'm in no rush with you." Mack's face is doing this ridiculous, sincere thing at Fitz, and it's not his fault that it makes his knees jelly. "We started out so fast, but I'm okay taking it slow. The pants can stay on for awhile, and we can take some time to just get to know each other be-"

Mack is unable to finish his thought because at this point, Fitz has had enough. Cutting Mack of mid-word, he surges up to capture the other man's lips with his own. It's a bruising kiss, nothing like what they shared earlier in the day. It's a hard press of lips and tongues, and he allows himself the luxury of letting his hands wander - across the plans of Mack's chest, tracing from his shoulders down to his wrists, it's not enough because they are wearing clothes and making out like teenagers in the middle of the hall. Pulling back, he uses his hands to frame Mack's face. It's tender, and a little strange with the height difference, but it's important so he makes do.

"When I told you earlier that I was ready to be with you, I don't know if I was clear enough. I want to be with you in every way. Emotionally, intellectually, and physically. You have to know by now that I'm incredibly attracted to you... how could I not be, with you being all- all tall, and handsome, and perfect for me?" The smile on Mack's face is small and sweet, almost bashful, but Fitz knows that it's not enough. "Yesterday, when you thought that I was in danger, you did _everything_ you could to save my life. Since you were out in the field this morning, I figure it's the least I can do to, uh, save your life in return... multiple times, just to be sure it sticks."

With an eyebrow waggle to rival Trip, Fitz takes a step back, and then another before reaching a hand out to Mack. "So what do you say, are you with me?"

"Yeah, Fitz. I'm with you."

The words are what he needed to hear, but it's the happy look on the other man's face that really brings it home that they are doing this. Finally, they are on the same page, and it's going to be glorious. With a dumb grin on his face, Fitz turns on his heel and races down the last thirty feet to his door, swiping his keycard and throwing the door open so they can both rush in. Once the door is safely locked behind them (thank goodness that Mack fixed the door earlier, there are only so many times that he'll be alright with the team walking in on them) it's almost a competition to see who gets out of their clothes first.

He can't get his fingers to stop shaking as he tries to undo his button down, which gives Mack the opportunity to strip down first. It's such a stark contrast to be standing nearly fully dressed while Mack strides towards him completely bare, but the view is so nice that he's not about to complain. It's with a quirk of the lips that Mack bats his hands away, making quick work of his shirt buttons before moving on to his pants. Clothes fly around the room until there's nothing left to take off, and Fitz finds himself just standing there, naked and flushed under Mack's scrutinous gaze. He feels as though he's under a microscope, and it should make him uncomfortable, but he can't help but feel safe with Mack. It doesn't hurt that he's able to stare as well.

"Are you just going to stand there staring, Fitz? I mean, I haven't been examined yet - how are we going to know for sure if I've been infected?"

Fitz can only stare at him in response, and it's the cocky quirk of Mack's brow that has him moving forward to begin the examination. Yesterday, there hadn't been too much time to really appreciate how gorgeous Mack is. He's all muscle and strength overlaid with soft-looking skin. There's a fine coating of dark hair covering his chest that looks soft to the touch and inviting. Fitz can't help but reach out, to run his fingers over the fine hair - it's so soft, and something that he never imagined being into, but everything about Mack is gorgeous and just his type. Trailing his hand lower, he runs his fingers through the thickening trail that leads to his cock. It's hard and glistening, already smeared with pre-come, and it's so tempting to just reach down to take it in hand. Instead, he continues down, marveling at the strong muscles in Mack's thighs and how they twitch under his touch. Everything about Mack is warm and firm, especially when he glances up and catches the fond look on the other man's face as he learns his body.

"Hmmmm, all clear on your front but I should probably do a thorough search, right? I wouldn't want to miss anything."

Stepping around so that he's facing Mack's back, he continues to map out his skin with his eyes and hands. Finger tips brushing from his neck down to his shoulders, focusing on the corded muscles and how tense they are. Fitz makes a mental note to work the tension out later before he moves down further, splaying his hands out to better take stock of Mack's broad back. Placing kisses along Mack's spine, his hands prove to have a mind of their own as he sinks his fingers into the globes of Mack's ass. It's perfect - just like the rest of Mack, it's firm and smooth, and he revels in how glorious this ass is as he squeezes gently. Each squeeze of his hand has Mack letting out little, breathy moans and each one washes over Fitz like champagne, all fizzy and light and intoxicating.

Mouthing along Mack's back, he reaches his hands around to pull Mack closer, and it feels so good to be this close. Bracing his weaker hand against Mack's abs so that he can feel the muscles contract with each breath he takes, Fitz brings his other hand down further to gently wrap his hand around the other man's cock. It's thick, and hard, and so warm, and the groan that Mack lets out at the contact has him panting.

Tightening his hold, he works his hand up and down the shaft, using his wrist to help set a sharp, demanding pace - the way he likes to work himself up. The muscles in Mack's stomach are jumping now, and there's a slight sheen of sweat that's broken out all over his body. He can't get over how hot Mack is like this, how much he wants to get his mouth all over him. Of course, now that he's thinking about it, it's the only thing he wants to do. Stilling his hand, he taps Mack on the shoulder - prompting him to turn around so that they are once again facing each other. Mack's eyes are blown, and he must have been chewing on his lips because they are swollen and wet. He looks like a wet dream.

"God, Mack, I just want to _taste_ you."

"Fuck." Mack's voice is thready with need, and the thrill that Fitz feels at the sound is undeniable because _he_ did this to Mack. "Yeah, sweetheart, I want what you want. Just, please... tell me what you want me to do."

The fact that Mack sounds completely sincere and gone right now is _doing_ things to Fitz's heart. It feels like it's palpitating out of his chest, the fact that Mack is being so open with him now. "Really? You want me to tell you what to do?" Fitz, while knowing what he likes, has never really been one to take the reins completely in the bedroom. The idea of it leaves him a little lightheaded, and the feeling only grows when Mack throws him a solemn nod before taking Fitz's hands in his own and kissing the knuckles.

"I want you to take control right now, is that okay? I like being told what to do sometimes, and I trust you to make me feel good."

The idea of making him feel good is what seals the deal. "Okay, I can do that. What I want is for you to get on the bed. I want you to lie on your back, and I want you to wait there for me."

"Yeah, okay Turbo." There's laughter in Mack's voice, but it's still got that breathless quality to it that speaks volumes.

He watches Mack climb into the bed and starts to plan his next step. He's not used to this, but it gives him a little thrill, to imagine Mack just letting him do what he wants to him. Absently he clenches his hands at the sight of Mack laid out on the bed, only to be reminded that his hand is still slick from Mack's pre-come. It sends a dirty little thrill through him as he raises his hand up for a taste. From the bed, he can hear Mack let out a wounded sigh. Glancing up, all Fitz can focus on is the glazed look on Mack's face as he watches Fitz lick his hand clean.

"You're killing me here, Turbo. You can't just do that to a man, it's not right."

"Just for that, I think you should have to wait until I'm done. In fact, I think you should let me focus on what I can and can't do, hmm? I don't want to hear another peep out of you until we're done."

With a little glare, Mack settles back onto the bed and waits. There's only so much Fitz can draw out the process of licking his hands clean when all he wants to do is jump onto Mack like a monkey. It's an effort, but the way Mack is watching him from the bed makes it worth it - he feels wanted and more than a little naughty.

Once every drop is licked clean, Fitz sets to climbing onto the bed. Each movement is deliberate, a calculated series of events to leave Mack panting and wanting. A kiss dropped to a shin here, a shy caress up the thigh there. It's like time has slowed down and it's just Mack and Fitz together and it's wonderful. Mack surges up to capture Fitz's lips before he lays back down, hands propped under his head to afford himself a better view.

 "I suppose that I did promise to save your life in return. It's really the least I can do, don't you think?"

Without waiting for a response he knows won't come, he grabs the base of Mack's cock in his hand before dropping down to lay an open mouthed kiss to the tip. It's warm and soft, slick and a little salty as he runs his tongue along the slit to gather the pre-come that had built up again. It's not the best thing that he's ever tasted, but it's Mack and that fact alone makes this a nearly religious experience. He attacks the head of Mack's cock like it's the most delicious lollipop he's had the pleasure of enjoying, alternating between small little kitten licks, and longer flat strokes of the tongue - all the while stroking with the hand that isn't keeping him braced above the other man.

Feeling a little bolder, he focuses on opening his mouth and relaxing his jaw to take him into his mouth, allowing his tongue to flutter around, stroking the warm and taught skin to the backing soundtrack of Mack's sighs. This isn't the first blow job that he's given, but it's certainly the most powerful that he's ever felt while in the process. The tentative weight of Mack's hands resting on his head has him glancing up before pausing to nuzzle into the other man's palms. It doesn't feel demanding or forceful to have Mack threading his fingers through his hair, to feel the slight pressure against his scalp. Instead it makes Fitz feel strong and desired as he focuses on taking Mack deeper into his mouth.

He's never been the best at deep throating - what with his sensitive gag reflex, so he focuses on what he can do. Upping the wet suction, and the laving at the head of Mack's cock, he balances on his knees well enough to reassign the hand that was bracing him up to work at fondling the other man's balls. Mack full out whines at the contact, as his hips thrust up and his fingers tug his head down by the hair hard.

"Shit, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - oh, god."

Rather than focus on Mack's misspent feelings of guilt, Fitz pulled back enough to allow Mack's cock to pop out of his lips. It's a distracting noise, but he knows that he has Mack's undivided attention. It's amazing, the thought that he made Mack lose control like that, but they had an arrangement here and he was having a bit too much fun to stop now.

"What did I tell you earlier? I thought that you wanted me to tell you what to do, but here you are talking when I told you not to."

Leaning down to lick a messy stripe up the line of Mack's cock, he pulls back again with narrowed eyes, placing both of his hands on Mack's hips to keep him pinned to the bed. "Now, nod if you think you can keep quiet and we'll keep going, but if you want to stop you should let me know. I'm fine no matter what we do."

Fitz can't help but feel relieved when Mack nods. This isn't something he's really done before, and it's comforting to know that Mack is enjoying it enough to want to keep going. Taking a moment to nod back, he bends back down to work down to the other man's balls - taking first one then the other into his mouth. Laving at each one, he wants to pat himself on the back with every bitten back noise Mack makes. Working back up, mouthing at the vein that runs along the underside until he's once again paying full attention to the tip and the sensitive underside he's surprised by the body underneath him going painfully rigid.

"Shhhhh." Mack sounds absolutely fucked out, and it makes Fitz want to come right there. Instead, he focuses on jacking Mack off, fluttering the tip of his tongue out over the crown until Mack stutters and starts coming all over Fitz's hand and face. It's a little bitter, and a little salty, but he makes sure to catch Mack's eyes as he sets to cleaning up the mess with his tongue. The way Mack looks at him may lead to this becoming a bit of a kink for Fitz, the way Mack looks exposed and gutted with want.

Climbing up until he's straddling Mack's chest, he leans back so that his arms are braced behind him on Mack's thighs. His cheeks feel warm and tight, but it's not that he's feeling bashful - it's the exact opposite. Fitz has never felt as debauched as he does now as he looms over Mack.

"I want you to touch me now."

The look Mack gives him reminds him of the Big Bad Wolf because he looks like he is starving and Fitz is a full-course meal. As Mack wraps one of his large hands around his hip and the other hand around his aching cock it's almost a relief to be touched. He had been so distracted in paying attention to Mack that he didn't stop to really consider himself, but each twist of Mack's wrist as he jerks Fitz off feels like a push towards the edge.

"Fuck, Mack. Next time I want to fuck you." The breath is ripped out of his lungs at the way Mack's hand stutters and his mouth goes slack. It's just a moment's pause before Mack redoubles his efforts, but it's enough where Fitz makes a note that this is something they should discuss later. It's the last thing he can wrap his head around before he's tripping over the edge and coming all over Mack's chest, striping up to his chin. Fully sated, he collapses against Mack's chest, trapping his come between them. Fitz can't bring himself to care, he's all jelly limbs and tingling as Mack strokes his large hands along the length of his back.

"C'mon, Turbo. Let's get cleaned up and then get a little snuggle in, okay?" Without waiting for Fitz to reply, Mack rolls the two of them over until they are facing each other on their sides. Reaching over to the side of the bed, Mack grabs his over shirt and makes quick work of wiping them off. As much as Fitz loathes the idea of waking up sticky, he's too tired to insist on a wet washcloth, instead focusing on how nice it is for Mack to be caressing him. He's exhausted, but he has just enough energy to roll over so that he's facing the wall, sighing in contentment as Mack takes the hint and curls up behind them, sitting up for a moment to pull a throw blanket over them. Sleep doesn't hit him so much as soothe him out of consciousness, but he's still awake enough to hear the other man when he mumbles sweet nothings against his shoulder.

"You didn't need the excuse of sex pollen to save my life, Turbo. I don't think anything could touch me after I realized you loved me back."

If you ask Fitz later, he won't remember the moment he fell asleep, but he'll remember that.

+++++

Mack startles awake at the knock at the door, and he would be tempted to roll back to sleep except that he's curled around Fitz and the last thing he wants is for him to be woken up by the persistent knocking. Climbing out of bed, he puts on his pants before pulling the door open wide enough to see who it is. Bobbi's face is peering back at him, and even though he adores her his heart sinks because he knows at this point that he won't be back to bed any time soon. Indicating that she should stay put, Mack turns back to grab his undershirt and shoes, stopping long enough to jot down a note for Fitz before heading out the door.

Bobbi waits for him to put on his shoes before she starts walking down to the kitchen. She doesn't say anything to him as they are walking, and he doesn't push. It's been such a rollercoaster over the past two days that he's not about to rush her if there's something that she needs to say. Waving at him to take a seat, Bobbi makes herself busy in the kitchen - grabbing two mugs and the electric kettle, she gathers the makings for tea before dumping them in front of him and walking to his side of the table.

He's expecting a hug, or a pat on the shoulder - what Mack isn't expecting is to be cuffed upside his head.

"You couldn't have waited another day to make it official with Fitz?! What happened to all that angsting as to whether or not he wanted to be with you?"

"Um, what? Are you really upset with me because I actually worked it out with Fitz?" The idea that one of his best friends doesn't approve of the relationship hurts him to his core, or at least it did until his brain catches up with her words. "Oh, no. Wait a second. You're pissed because you were in on the betting pool... really, Bobbi? Really?!"

She doesn't have the decency to look guilty as she walks away to fill their mugs with the steaming water before returning. He chooses a bag of chamomile tea, placing it in the mug to steep before turning his attention back to Bobbi.

"Don't give me that look, Mack! I was lined up to win the $5,000 pot if you could have just kept your feelings to yourself for another day. You would have done the same thing if you were in my position and you know it!"

He can't help but smirk, because she's right. In fact, he should see about setting up a pool around when 'Huntingbird' will become an actual relationship outside of late night hookups and snarky retorts. "I can't argue with that, but I'll have you know that I had very little to do with this. Fitz was the driving force between us getting together, and you know I can't say no to him."

"Yeah, I think you two are going to be good for each other. It's all very sweet - very you." Her eye rolling loses some of its effect against the fondness in her voice, and he decides to not take it personally.

"Enough about me and my relationship, what's going on with you? I didn't think that you would be back so soon from the field."

Bobbie sighs at that, rolling her shoulders back before heaping a few spoonfuls of sugar into her tea and taking a healthy sip. "We found the freaking totem in the second tomb that we tracked down. It's just like Skye's research suggested - it was glowing this bright blue, and you know that note about a 'sacrifice of bounty'? I swear to god, one of those moron, self-described tomb raiders left half a sandwich on top of the totem! Apparently, whatever 'god' left the damn thing had piss-poor standards when it comes to a sacrifice."

Laughing into his cup, Mack takes a sip before setting it down. Getting to his feet, he grabs the package of Fig Newtons that he had stashed on top of the fridge, forgoing plates or napkins in favor of bringing the entire package back to the table. "Well, we all have different ideas of bounty. Compared to what they served up hundreds of years ago, that sandwich probably would have blown their minds."

"I guess you have a point. To me, a great bounty is a three course meal at a 5-star restaurant. Your tastes, on the other hand, probably veer more towards edible Scottish engineers ready for the final sacrifice."

Barking a laugh, he throws a handful of cookies at her in retaliation. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

She does, cackling as she picks the Fig Newton crumbs out of her hair. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you Mack. Fitz is a good guy, and you seem happy - despite all the bullshit that's been thrown at you."

"Thanks. I am happy, almost disgustingly happy with him. I think we can make a go of it together."

Her smile is soft and slightly strained as she looks him over. "I think we all know at this point that I'm not the poster child for workplace relationships..." She looks down, pausing to take a sip of her tea before setting her mug back on the table. "You should fight for this, everyday, because relationships are hard but they are _so_ worth it when you find the right person."

Mack feels that warm feeling again in his chest, the one that tends to pop up when he thinks about Fitz curled against him while he sleeps, or the look of concentration on his face when he's explaining a new theory. He knows that he's smiling like a doofus, but he can't find it within himself to care.

"Ugh, you're so cute right now - all in love, and viewing the world through rose-colored glasses. I'm not drunk enough for this right now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He waves her off, and it's only after she's halfway out the door that he realizes that there's one niggling question that hasn't been answered.

"Hey! Bobbi, who actually won the pool?"

"Ugh, don't remind me! Hunter won the damn thing, but we disqualified him after he basically forced Fitz's hand with you - the cheating bastard!" With a final flip of her hair, she leaves him to clean up the mess that they accumulated. Once the mugs have been placed in the dishwasher and the Fig Newtons have been squirreled away he heads back to Fitz's room - glad that he managed to swipe the other man's keycard before heading out with Bobbi.

He lets himself back into the room quietly, hoping to avoid waking Fitz up, only to find him sitting up in the bed with the blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon. Shuffling out of his clothes again, Mack moves to join him when Fitz makes enough room in the blankets for the two of them to be wrapped together. It's warm and perfect, and Mack would be halfway to sleep again if Fitz wasn't so obviously interested in where he had gone.

"So, I don't know if this is a bad sign - I think it might be a bad sign - but I woke up expecting to find you next to me only to realize I was by myself." Fitz's eyes are earnest as Mack presses forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Bobbi was knocking at the door and I didn't want to wake you up. I didn't mean to worry you."

"I didn't realize Bobbi was due back from the field. Is everything alright?" The concern in Fitz's eyes is palpable, and he realizes again how fond he is of this man.

"Actually, good news! They finally tracked down the totem, it was just like in the legends, but I think you should wait to hear more at the next briefing. I only heard a little bit about what went down, and I'm sure the story will only get better once Bobbi's had a night to sleep on it. Spoiler alert: there was a sandwich."

"Hah, what? A sandwich? You've got to be pulling my leg."

Wrapping his arms around Fitz, he snuggles deeper into the blankets before bothering to respond. "Nope, that's all you get about the totem. There was a sandwich involved, and apparently it was amazing. Better than Simmons' sandwiches, even."

Humming in tired outrage, Fitz presses a kiss to his temple. "It's lucky that you're incredibly good looking, because you have no idea what you speak of, Mack."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh! Guess who won the betting pool?" Fitz doesn't answer beyond nuzzling into the crook of Mack's neck, but he pushes on because he's sure to get a kick out of the information. "It was Hunter, but they disqualified him since he basically gave you relationship counseling. The pool was apparently up to $5,000."

At that, Fitz is all flailing indignance, pulling away from Mack to better look him in the eye. "That's bullshit! Our relationship is worth at least _double_ that!"

"Mmmm, triple it and maybe we can talk."

They lay there facing each other, yawning through their smiles, and it's clear that they are both fighting a losing fight. Snuggled warm together under the blankets, it doesn't take long for Fitz to be out like a light. After the day that they've had Mack knows that he won't be long behind, but he still fights the exhaustion because the longer he's awake the longer he can appreciate the fact that Fitz is here in his arms. It's so much more than he had expected, but he's not about to lose this now that he's got it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this story is much angstier than I had originally planned. There are lots of tears.
> 
> There are also multiple off-scene deaths of people we have never heard of that take place prior to the story.
> 
> There are some questionable consent issues (inherent within most sex pollen stories, let's be real) but Mack and Fitz have sex under dubious conditions while under the mistaken impression that Fitz has been infected by "sex pollen" and needs to have sex to survive.
> 
> Did I mention angst?
> 
> HUGE thank you to Callay for being lovely and helping me make this story less of a hot mess.


End file.
